This week was an exciting week for Bryan and I. We had our first doctor’s appointment and we got to hear our little baby’s heart beat! I’ve heard how amazing it is, but words can’t describe just how awesome it really was. We were both speechless. Our doctor told us the heart beat was about 140 beats per minute and right on track for what it should be. We took the opportunity to learn a little straight from the doctor (instead of the books and internet) and she explained that it stays that rate until birth. Later, I told Bryan I wished he would have recorded it so we could listen to it again. My memory doesn’t do it justice! When I told my mom what the heart beat was, she told me about an old wives tale about 140 beats meaning it’s a boy. I didn’t believe it to still be true and decided if this baby is a boy, it’s probably because we have six nephews and not due to the old wives.
After our appointment, we spent some time with my grandma. We took her some Valentine’s day flowers and shared the good news with her. I had a really bad migraine by this point, but really wanted to be able to tell her in person. I’m glad I suffered through because the look on her face was awesome. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her face light up and glow like it did that afternoon. It will be a memory I remember forever. I always enjoy talking to my grandma about life experiences and hearing how things were for her. It’s a cool thing to be able to talk about such a life changing event with someone who has watched you grow up.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
A good day is one that brings on the headache in the afternoon. You’d think that I’d be used to them by now. After all, I’ve had a lifetime of them. But, every one of them is different. Some days they turn into migraines and some days they are a dull reminder that my body has had better days. Today, I embark the beginning of another and hope to quickly pass it away. After all, my leftover shrimp scampi, smoothie, and two turtle bars should help my body feel secure. I know it sure is helping make my pants feel a little too secure. And probably doesn’t help the shirt that is probably a little questionable in my time of secrecy. It’s never a good sign when your husband sees you at lunch and says, “You look pregnant.” My response after unbuttoning my last button on my pants, “How about now?” Ah, just another day in the life of me.
Wednesday, January 27
Twelve weeks out of forty. It’s amazing what two whole weeks can do for a growing body. It can be the end of slim fitting shirts. It can be the end of work pants that used to button comfortably. It can also be the end of nauseousness. It can be the continuation of the never ending hunger that strikes. It can also be the beginning of headaches and migraines. Or, the continuation if they started after that blissful nauseousness went away. It can be the 6th week of keeping the biggest secret of your life. It can mark the beginning of a list of nights you didn’t immediately fall to the couch upon entering the house. It can mark the first time in weeks that you stayed at work until 5. It’s the point where your stomach no longer fluctuates between looking like you ate too much. It can be the point where the roundness is here to stay. It’s two more weeks of the first trimester. It’s being t h i s close to saying there was no morning sickness! Twelve weeks is when you realize that somehow, you made it THREE MONTHS. It’s realizing that this won’t be so bad. It’s feeling alive again and getting that energy back!
Three months out of nine doesn’t seem so long anymore. But, twelve weeks still isn’t the point when this post can be published. So, twelve weeks feels like forever but the next three are bound to feel even longer!
Not the most flattering picture, but this is the best I’m willing to share in terms of the “before” I look different.
Ten weeks sounds like a big number. It’s most of a summer vacation from school. It’s the longest part of the winter (usually / hopefully). It’s almost a full softball season. Ten weeks can sound like a lot, until you look at how many weeks you have left. Now, ten weeks isn’t a lot. Ten weeks only gets me 1/4 of the way to my goal. It’s 25% of the end result. It gets me one finger and one toe and maybe a little more. Ten weeks doesn’t get me very far when I’m looking at another 30 weeks. Ten weeks gets me a tiny baby who is the size of a blueberry. Ten weeks gets me nauseous and hungry at the same time. Ten weeks sends me to the couch for a nap over my lunch hour and as soon as I walk in the door at night. Ten weeks gets me to a point of hungry I’ve never experienced before. But, ten weeks also gets me farther than any week has gotten me before. Ten weeks gets me closer to being a mother than I was twelve weeks ago. It is 30 weeks closer to a family of three instead of two. It turns out, ten weeks is just perfect no matter which direction you come from!